The second series of Ten Pound Poms (BBC One) makes no qualms about tackling gritty social issues faced by 1950s migrants flocking to Australia. While it’s billed as a period drama, the show spins multiple plates of intense storylines, slicing through childhood trauma, rampant misogyny, and political corruption, among other pressing themes.
At the center of this six-part series is the heart-wrenching tale of Kate, a single mother played by Michelle Keegan. Kate’s plight is immediately compelling: after suffering from postnatal depression, she finds her son, Michael, was forcibly adopted by Australian parents—an experience not uncommon during the postwar years when children were often ‘sold’ by adoption agencies. The show artfully captures her desperate struggle to win back Michael, creating poignant, emotionally charged moments as she navigates the bureaucracy of the legal and social systems.
Despite the series’ laudable intentions, some viewers might argue the prevalent issues portrayed are overwhelming. Critics assert the storyline stretches beyond credulity, as the lead character, Kate, is seen making morally questionable choices—including stealing another woman’s handbag to finance her escape to New Zealand with Michael. While she appears reckless, this act reveals her heightened desperation as she grapples with the trauma of her circumstances.
Another key narrative thread involves Annie and Terry, portrayed by actors Faye Marsay and Warren Brown, respectively. Their relationship, rocked by wartime secrets, symbolizes broader societal challenges. Ten Pound Poms uses this couple to offer insights on Australia’s persisting misogyny, illustrating Annie and Terry’s uphill battle against gender biases within the job market. A telling line captured from the review states, "...you’ll wonder at the naiveté of all involved as eyes are opened to the devious ways of landlords and business investors who believe women shouldn’t be allowed within a hundred yards of a spreadsheet.”
The juxtaposition of the promised ‘life of ease’ against the crude reality is starkly evident. A review notes, “But many did find this is what they arrived to and I would definitely have become a ‘whingeing Pom’ had I expected white picket-fenced houses, gardens and water skiing… only to find I was living for months in a cylindrical steel hut with a communal dunny.” Such reflection serves as powerful commentary on the disparity between expectation and the harsh truths of migration.
Throughout Ten Pound Poms, the show deftly addresses not just the comforts migrants hoped for but also the brutal realities awaiting them. Kate's storyline resonates powerfully, particularly when she has to make the gut-wrenching decision to return Michael to his adoptive mother. "She returns begging, ‘Please let me see him at weekends,’ thanking the adoptive mother for taking care of him,” providing viewers with deep emotional impact. The scene encapsulates the gripping maternal sacrifices made out of love, adding layers of complexity to Kate’s character and elevates the thematic depth of the series.
It’s worth noting the humor scattered throughout the drama, tempered against darker themes. One such humorous exchange occurs when Terry reflects on the dismal conditions of his work, quipping, “It’s badly paid, bad conditions, bad boss, bad workmates. Apart from all of this, it’s great.” This tongue-in-cheek banter succeeds as comic relief, giving the audience glimpses of resilience amid adversity.
Despite its aspirations, there have been moments where critics argue the narrative slips too far toward being preachy with its messaging. Interactions among characters, like the line, "That’s probably how Aborigines felt in the 1700s,” stand out as less than authentic, perceived more as social commentary than realistic dialogue. It highlights the struggles of maintaining pacing and tone, as the series develops heavy themes through the voices of its characters.
Given the challenges faced by Kate, Michael, Terry, and Annie, the show makes it clear: surviving the challenges of 1950s migration to Australia is no easy task, burdened by personal and social struggles alike. By focusing on these characters and their intersecting stories, Ten Pound Poms shapes itself as more than just historical fiction—it’s reflective of the pain, sacrifice, and resilience of those who sought new lives abroad.
While the show delivers rich narratives, it could benefit from centralizing its emotional message around Kate’s discovery of self among the chaos. This, one could argue, might render Ten Pound Poms not merely entertainment but also as a lasting commentary on identity amid changing times.
For viewers interested not just in drama but the very essence of socio-political pressures of the past, this series divides opinions yet pushes boundaries. Ten Pound Poms is both heartfelt and troubling, evoking contemplation about the sacrifices made by those reaching for dreams, confronting the stark question: What is the cost of migration?